


Wisdom Teeth

by Kim_Kardashian



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 07:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kim_Kardashian/pseuds/Kim_Kardashian
Summary: Erwin is human glue and Levi is a human mess. It's like that sometimes.





	Wisdom Teeth

Chobani yogurt was his religion. Sometimes he skimmed through Chobani’s Twitter feed and wondered how it became cum of the gods. It’s unlike him to _not_ spend a copious amount of money on yogurt. And Erwin simply tagged along because of a severe stationery fetish.

“That is…never mind.”

“Say it. Say it. Out loud. Say it.”

Erwin frowned. “Are you quoting Twilight?” Levi pushed the shopping cart ahead and refused to answer that question. His hair was an unruly mess, his boxers were digging into his ass, and he forgot to exfoliate. Which meant he was greasy, exceptionally greasy. Finals were oozing like pus, determined to infect every part of his existence. But that’s the life of a nursing major, muttering muscle groups and the importance of phospholipids when cruising ShopRite’s aisles. Erwin took his sweet time reading labels of strawberry jam, figuring which had less preservatives and just overall sucked the most money out of his pocket. “You do realize,” he began slowly, “that we could have gone to Walmart. It’s a lot cheaper and they have better office supplies. The jam is seventy-four cents more expensive here.”

“I don’t like ShopRite either,” Levi said, running a finger over his forehead to feel his sweat. He forgot he had a forehead, a side effect from caffeine pills. “Let’s go to Walmart then.”

Maybe it was because they’ve known each other for a long time, or maybe because Levi insured the car, but Erwin never complained. Ever. He had the patience of a preschool teacher, and if he ever bothered being upset, he’d just take a nap. So easy and unhealthy if Levi ever decided to psychoanalyze, but he stopped trying to after noticing that Erwin still listened to My Chemical Romance.

He drove while Erwin discussed points he’d include in his final anthropology paper, something about Brazil, still at a loss as to why he let his life turn out this way. In the sense that he couldn’t believe he was an adult and no longer had justifications for the stupid things he did. “I agreed to go on a date with Petra. But it’s been a while since I, you know?”

“Fucked?” Levi couldn’t help but ask.

Grinning but obviously trying not to cringe, Erwin readjusted his glasses and looked out the window. “Not what I meant but I guess that too.” Of course. Levi expected nothing less, especially when Erwin’s idea of loosening up was one glass of wine and the Harry Potter films. A sudden speed bump and Erwin’s yelp brought him back to reality. He stifled a laugh, refusing to acknowledge the fact that Petra Ral, like Erwin, looked hot as fuck and was also part of the Honors program. Levi was in the program too, but he was in the nursing school, not business, and he also didn’t have life’s loose ends tucked in neat seams.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine. You’ll fuck just fine.”

“Sexual intercourse wasn’t what I had in mind.”

He almost crashed the car, but thankfully smashed his foot on the brake like he’d smash that ‘subscribe’ button. YouTube kept him sane. Not that anybody had to know that.

-

The wet gravel sloshed with each step, his thighs were on fire but the burn soothed him and the inner turd of anxiety that refused to quell. Running in the rain was an act of art. His water-slacked shorts were one with his skin, which looked abnormally pale under a grey, cloud-ful sky, as his right leg began to ache. But it still moved on autopilot under his mind’s command, even with Erwin easily matching his stride.

Levi usually ran a 6.5-minute mile, but when pain was in the mix it was no surprise when Erwin’s heated complexion mirrored his own exhaustion and eight-minute pace. A damn shame, Coach Pixis would say. “Pick it up, Ackerman, no wish-wash. You’re skipping, this is a race, boy. You’re supposed to be running!” Maybe it was Kendrick Lamar, or maybe his own stubborn idiocy to listen to an old high school-era echo, but he did. He locked his arms tight, body easily molding into the perfect form of someone who didn’t exist. No skipping.

“Levi.”

He heard Erwin’s voice despite the music in his ears and dismissed it, but then Erwin being Erwin, tapped his shoulder with silent concern. “What?” He pretended to be curious, pulling a bud out, frowning all brisk and proper.

“We should slow down. Your leg.”

“It’s fine.”

Despite the rain and whipping wind, Erwin’s hair remained in place, his irises protruding so much Levi had to look away. He rubbed the slick of water off his face with the hem of his sleeveless t-shirt, not sure if it was rain or sweat. Probably both. “We ran ten miles already. It’s pouring.”

He hoped his impatience seeped into his deep exhale. “Fine. Let’s just do a cool down.”

“Two-minute cooldown,” Erwin said firmly. The Reebok t-shirt was too tight on his shoulders; Levi forgot Erwin played football back in high school. He was reminded usually at two AM when Erwin did a last-minute reading, his reading glasses a must if he wanted to see the text. A result of two concussions, but the school won the football state championships. So. You win some, you lose some.

“Fine,” he agreed. This trail was one of their favorites, curving around the city, but eventually leading to campus. They were surrounded by the Shinganshina Bay, its crashing waves heard from a distance with its screeching seagulls. Levi could still taste the Subway he ate hours earlier, and these two minutes felt like two hours. Two hours of Erwin’s company, his presence so solid and real it made him wonder if he’d willingly run ten miles on his own. They eventually stopped, their lungs collapsing but crawling for oxygen anyway—his heartbeat in his skull, not chest.

“Do you want to—“

“Yeah,” Levi cut off, panting and warm. “Wherever, yeah. Don’t give a shit.” The rain did little to calm him.

-

Apparently, Erwin’s question was whether he wanted to go to Wendy’s. So sweaty and with his right leg throbbing, they took the turnpike and turned the heater on. He tapped his middle finger to a non-existent beat, the window-wipers jutting left and right nonstop.

The lump that lurked beneath his guts refused to dissolve and as if that wasn’t boggling enough, Erwin filled the silence with his soothing siren of a voice. Commentary on the rain, politics, this cute chipmunk he saw near the dining hall. Same old, same old. Same shit, different toilet. The thing was, well. He wouldn’t necessarily have it any other way as inane as it seemed. Habituation was harmony.

They went straight to the drive-thru, his Asiago chicken sandwich and Erwin’s quarter cheeseburger, two strawberry lemonades.

“I think we’re low on Fireball. Rumchata. And Henny. Maybe some Jose Cuervo. Or Patron.”

Erwin chewed thoughtfully, with intense purpose. “You want to stop by the liquor store?” There was ketchup on the edge of his lip.

Levi nodded, not at all ashamed of his checking account shrinking. Finals were over. His liver deserved it.

-

He forgot that winter break also entailed celebrating his birthday like an unwanted guest. Aging scared the shit out of him. His cells were dying; thus, he was dying, the telomeres shortening and fucking manifesting with future disease. It made him anxious, which also combated his Christmas spirit regardless of being Jewish.

The whiskey he swished in his mouth buzzed on his gums, the pure liquor clearing his sinuses. He never celebrated with his family, mostly because Kuchel hated his career choice. Or just his choices in general. She loved the idea of him being a lawyer, swearing to cut funds after he chose nursing. That’s when emancipation danced in his head like a firefly,_ buzz-buzz bitch, your mother’s__ toxic_ it said.

His tongue felt the softened gum behind his molar. Forgot he had his wisdom teeth pulled out three years ago, but still reminded now and then when he saw the expired pain medication in his cabinet. Which he never discarded. “You really want to get wrinkles, don’t you?”

He swatted Erwin’s arm, feeling oddly satisfied when some of his whiskey colored the smooth, untouched snow. “I’m thinking.”

“About?”

“Everything.” He pursed his lips. “Shit, mostly.” He locked his eyes elsewhere, knowing that the high flush in Erwin’s cheeks meant he was peachy. Alcoholically peachy. “Bean. And dying.” It was December 25th, he was officially twenty-two years old, not inside his mother anymore. Shitted out twenty-two years ago, coated in amniotic fluid and crying needlessly. His mother was probably sleeping on her recliner, rheumatism keeping her slightly awake, not celebrating Christmas or his existence. Alone and bitter. Kenny’s ashes in a tiny pouch, pressed tightly in her haggard hands. Ever since her older brother died, she had never been the same.

And he had never been quite aware of _that_ specific bitterness until Bean died, on Christmas as well. Bean was sixteen years old and the only member of his family who willingly spent time with him. She could be a bitch when it came to shitting in her litterbox, but she always purred whenever he rubbed her furry jaw with his index finger, big green eyes adoringly looking at his face. Mapping his movements with the flick of her tail. 

He felt a lump in his throat, unsure where the sudden nostalgia came from. He never shed a tear when his uncle Kenny died, maybe that’s why his mother didn’t like him, but for a cat? He could cry for a goddamn cat. The whiskey failed to dissolve whatever decided to harden in his esophagus, and Erwin’s cologne engulfing him into a monstrous hug suddenly had him covering his eyes before they could spill anything traitorous. He hated crying in front of people.

How unglamorous. Everyone was celebrating inside their apartment, celebrating him and Christmas, the end of finals and the fall semester, the end of most things, and here he was, sitting in front of Subway at 10:47 PM, cold snow melting under his ass, a year older, nostalgic over his long dead cat.

“I got you a great gift,” Erwin said steadily, voice honeyed in his ear. “And Petra knows I’m not straight. Our date was mostly her telling me how to connect with myself spiritually. She’s a devoted Christian now and loves God. Do you want to accompany me to church tomorrow?”

_Accompany? _That made him choke out a wheezing, dry laugh. It was short, abrupt but still the only sound he was willing to show Erwin on a shitty Christmas evening. Bean loved Erwin. _He_ loved Erwin.

“You’re drunk,” was all he said though. And that’s all he would say as Erwin pressed his lips to his temple. 

**Author's Note:**

> Written 2017 on Tumblr, felt like sharing here.


End file.
